


Scout Thinks Spiders are Evil

by windyjeans



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Spiders, i dont even know lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2716577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windyjeans/pseuds/windyjeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which: Scout is afraid of spiders and Pyro thinks he's being a drama queen.  </p><p>Written for Flashfire Week on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scout Thinks Spiders are Evil

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfiction that I'm posting on the Internet in a very, very, VERY long time! I'm probably going to be a little rusty at this for quite a bit. Writing formal essays for school will do that to you. Also as a side note I probably could have rated this as G but whatever haha
> 
> But enough rambling! Enjoy!

The midday summer sun shone through the windows of the base, casting their warm glow on everything they could reach. The base was actually quiet for once as it was a scheduled ceasefire and most of the mercenaries of the RED team were off doing their own thing. It was a wonderful day overall and would probably continue to be a peaceful and relaxing one for the often overworked mercenaries.

But hell if the Scout noticed any of that.

The Scout lumbered towards the kitchen with all of the grace of a hungover sloth because, coincidentally, he was, in fact, hungover from the night before. What had originally started as just a few isolated nights of drunken shenanigans quickly became a habit of getting wasted the night before ceasefires days, not really caring how much it would affect him the next day. Although, he thought, rubbing at his temples to try and dispel some of the pounding in his head, if this was going how he was going to feel after every time maybe he’d stop with the drinking. While eating sounded like the worst possible option at the moment, coffee sounded pretty damn good.

The runner shambled into the small kitchen without looking where he was going and nearly collided with someone who was already in the room. The Scout cursed loudly and poised himself to yell, but his expression changed immediately when he saw who it was. It was none other than the Pyro, who was hastily shifting the plate in his gloved hand to keep the sandwich sitting on it from falling on the ground. 

“Oh shit, sorry Py,” the Scout apologized rather weakly, grinning in an attempt to hide how horrible he felt. He didn’t want the Pyro to know just how dumb he’d been the night before. The fire lover got a good look at the Scout and merely shook his head at the young man, small tsks wafting from inside his mask. “What?” Why was he being so judgmental all of a sudden, the Scout thought, raising an eyebrow.

“Hou juus foke ub, hidn’t hou,” it wasn’t a question but a statement – a fairly exasperated one at that. Even through the gas mask, the Scout could hear the Pyro’s disapproval. The Scout scoffed with indignation.

“No,” he lied, scooting around the other man to get to the coffee pot. Luckily, there was still some left over from that morning and for that, the Scout was grateful. A warm hand encased his shoulder and he turned to meet what would have been a pointed look from the Pyro. Lord, sometimes he didn’t know what he saw in the guy - he could be more of a nag than his own mother. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t been up all dat long… But I’m up now, don’t dat matter?” A head shake was the only response as the Pyro moved over to another part of the counter to finish making his lunch.

The Scout huffed heavily. He was far too tired to deal with being bitched at, even if it was the Pyro who was doing all the bitching. It was because the Pyro cared about him, he knew this, but this was a bit too much. The runner grabbed a mug from inside the overhead cabinet and mumbled (purposefully loud enough for the Pyro to hear), “I’m a grown ass man I can wake up when I wa-“ with a double-take to the counter, he froze. 

Crawling across the flat surface, mere inches from his hand, was quite possibly the largest spider he had ever seen in his 20-something years. 

Now the Scout would never admit it aloud, but he was horrified of spiders of any size due to a bad experience he’d had as a kid. He usually was able to put up an act and deny that he wasn’t afraid of the creatures, but in this case, he couldn’t stop the loud yelp from bursting out of his mouth. The way the spider’s long brown legs flexed and coiled made the young man jump back in surprise. The mug hit the ground hard with a loud smash that also served as an accompaniment to the Scout’s raucous “JESUS FUCK, GODDAMN SPIDER!”

Much like before, the Pyro shook his head in irritation. The Scout could have sworn he could see rolling eyes behind tinted lens – that is, he would have thought so if the Scout were looking anywhere but the counter where the spider continued to crawl along. 

The Pyro fetched a glass and trapped the arachnid with one quick swoop, then carried it over to the small window that brought bright sunlight into the kitchen. A brief struggle with the old latch and the window was open. The firebug overturned the glass gently to let the spider out into the desert outside before closing the window tight and sealing it with a click. Simple. No need for all the dramatics, in his opinion.

He looked over to the younger mercenary who had seemed to calm down considerably with the threat gone. The Scout grimaced under the Pyro’s glance before sighing heavily.

“Alright, alright. ‘M afraid a spiders, okay? Dey freak me out.” An involuntary shiver rippled through his body at the thought of spiders being anywhere near him. The Bostonian felt a hand ruffle through his light brown hair before seeing a pair of chapped brown lips peeking from behind the rubber mask that so often hid the Pyro’s face. The man was smiling (smirking?) as he lightly pecked the Scout’s forehead, whispering sympathetic things to make him feel better. It worked quite well; the Scout felt as though a major crisis was adverted and that his reputation was left undamaged. The Pyro wouldn’t rat him out. 

“Hey, Py,” he asked, glancing at the still smiling lips.

“Mmm?”

“Thanks.” The Scout kissed the Pyro lightly on the lips, right there in the kitchen, not entirely worried about who saw or the consequences of his actions. He just wanted a way to thank the man he felt deeply for, even if it was something as simple as getting rid of a spider. 

The kiss was chaste but meaningful, a quick meeting of lips. As the Scout pulled away, he was met with a large, lopsided grin that he mirrored with his own bucktoothed one. It wasn’t often enough that the Scout was this affectionate. He’d have to fix that.

His hangover all but forgotten, the young man grabbed another mug from the cupboard and poured himself some of the coffee that he’d originally come into the kitchen for, but now offering to sit with the Pyro as he ate his lunch. They’d spend the rest of the day together, he promised. Another grin brightened what little of the Pyro’s face was exposed before the mask was put back into place. The firebug turned with his food towards the mess hall, and the Scout followed with a renewed spring in his step. It looked as though the day was looking up – spiders and hangovers aside.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for shadowenza's Flash Fire Week on Tumblr.


End file.
